Chasing Ghosts
by x-butterflykisses-x
Summary: Mr Eames has a past, one that he closely guards, after all his anonymity is all that he has to protect him. And when someone he thought had long forgotten him reappears in his life, questions must be asked and answers given. Eames/OC, implied Ariadne/Arthur
1. Chapter 1

"Of all ghosts the ghosts of our old loves are the worst." – Arthur Conan Doyle, 'The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes'

* * *

_The doorbell rang and the noise hung in the still air, waiting to be answered. The two women who currently occupied the living room glanced at each other, the same fear mirrored in each other's eyes. With shaking hands the younger of the two placed her cup of tea down. Rising to her feet she brushed off the imaginary lint from her dress, holding out her hand she felt the papery skin of the other woman grip her fingers. _

_ The doorbell chimed again. They both stiffened, there was no urgency behind the ringing, only a gentle reminder – respectful but insistent._

_The younger woman felt her shoulders stiffen, her stomach churning with familiar dread, and it was enough for her to realize that whoever stood on the other side of the door did not bear good tidings. _

_"Olivia…" the older woman began. "I cant…" the woman's voice broke, her eyes screwing shut as she attempted to keep moving towards the front door and the inevitable sorrow that was to great her. _

_"It's ok Evelyn," Olivia reassured, pulling on the other's woman's arm so it linked with her own. _

_Letting the heavy front door swing open Olivia tried to marshal her thoughts, but all she could see was navy blue and a red sash. Words needn't pass between them, because she knew. The man's presence was only conformation of what she had thought all along. Olivia's head shook slowly, her hand pressed up against her mouth as she attempted to muffle the sobs that were currently forcing their way through her body, Evelyn had collapsed against her shoulder, lost in her own grief. _

_"I'm sorry Ms Cooper." The officer muttered, before dropping his gaze, unwilling to confront the grief that he was being faced with. Swallowing heavily the marine looked up once more, before thinking himself out of it his hand reached out to grip Olivia's. At his touch Olivia steadied, her eyes opening gradually. _

_"Lieutenant Young," the officer's words came out slowly and deliberately. "Was killed in Baghdad one week ago." _

_ "The body?" Olivia found herself asking, just managing to control the violent sobs from shuddering through her – she had to be practical, she had to keep it together. But her body was not done yet, and instead tears poured freely down her cheeks, the taste of salt bitter on her tongue. _

_"Will be returned to you," the marine finished Olivia's sentence, his free hand fiddling with his hat. _

_Evelyn had disengaged herself from Olivia and was walking down the cool hallway back into the main body of the house. _

_"How?" Olivia whispered, her blood shot eyes boring into the officer's. _

_"Friendly fire…"_

_Wrenching her hand free Olivia screamed as she dropped to the floor, blind to the officer's ministrations, oblivious to Evelyn's own cries. _

_Everything had stopped, everything but her own heart and the twisted pain that was coursing through her veins._

* * *

**Eight Years Later**

Ariadne could almost feel her conscious ripped from the dream world before being forcibly stuffed back into her body, the feel of a deep pile carpet between her fingers alerting her to her change in situation. As she opened her eyes the ubiquitous cream ceiling of their anonymous hotel room greeted her. Turning her head to the right she saw Arthur hurriedly unhooking himself from the PASIV, moving towards the architect he quickly fiddled with the IV on her right arm. His finger's lingering for a little longer than they should have, his gaze promising more than the regular reassurances she was used to from the point man.

"We need to get out of here," Arthur's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. His gaze travelled across the room to Eames, the forger was already standing, quickly swinging his bag onto his shoulder.

"We should head for the car park," Eames suggested as his eyes flicked warily towards the still unconscious man on the floor. "We don't have much time to clear the room before sleeping beauty here wakes up."

"What if he has security waiting for us?" Ariadne questioned, pulling herself to her feet as her hand rubbed against the small puncture mark in the crook of her elbow.

"Then we give them the slip," Eames shrugged carelessly. "When we clear the building, I say we split up."

"Agreed," Arthur concurred, his gaze traveling towards Ariadne.

Ariadne merely nodded. The architect had long grown accustomed to their contingency plans; they were necessary in this line of work.

* * *

The heavy portfolio fell to the floor, sheets of paper spilling across the bottom of the van. Ignoring the mess that currently pooled at her feet, Olivia's eyes widened in shock as she moved closer to one of the many monitors that lined the wall of the surveillance van.

"Where is this?" Olivia demanded with her eyes still fixed to the screen. The face that had just flashed across the monitor was one of such startlingly painful familiarity that for a second she found herself failing to breath. And in that second Olivia could feel herself slipping back as she allowed herself the faintest amount of hope and let herself remember a past she had tried to forget.

_"You'll write to me wont you?"_

_Olivia laughed, "They have phones there too Christian."_

_"It's not the same," Christian smiled. "Besides, what else are you supposed to look at when you're old and grey and remembering your misspent youth?"_

_Olivia frowned, "I'll look at you when I'm old and grey. You're coming back Lieutenant Young."_

_"We'll be back by Christmas right?" Christian laughed, but Olivia could see past it. The bravado she was sure he had put in place for her benefit. _

_Olivia nodded, not trusting herself to speak; instead she pulled Christian towards her. Squeezing his body to hers she tried to commit every aspect of him to memory. She would remember him, when he was whole and hers, she would remember the contours of his face and the feel of his arms around her. Because in spite all of their promises and smiles, there were no guarantees where he was going. _

_"I promise I'll come back to you."_

"Staircase headed towards the fifth story of the car park." Olivia's partner muttered, as he continued to type frenetically on his keyboard, his voice only just piercing through the haze that had descended over Olivia.

Shaking her head, Olivia frowned, following the movement of the three strangers as they jumped from camera to camera. Behind them what looked like an armed security detail was in pursuit.

"Christ," Olivia muttered. "Steven will you look at this!" Her hand waving impatiently in front of her partner's face.

"Look at what Liv?" the man sighed, his fingers pinching his brow as he joined his partner at the monitor bank.

"Fuck. Do you think their McLoughlin's men?"

"Possibly," Olivia's eyes narrowed. "Either way they're carrying semi automatics."

"Then we let uniform deal with them." Steven sighed. "We're here for surveillance, remember?"

The face flashed up once more and for a moment Olivia had never been so certain of anything in her life. But then it was gone, a ghost of a memory, a product of an overworked brain.

But Olivia couldn't shake it, the niggling thought, the 'what if' that was currently boring through her head. He had promised her after all.

"I need to go…" Olivia breathed; her eyes alight with a feverish energy. As if someone had struck a match in her brain, an all-consuming fire was beginning to take root.

"What?" Steven parroted. "Liv, we're in the middle of something here! Let bloody uniform take care of it. I've already put in the call."

"I'm not interested in them." Olivia waved her hand impatiently, already rummaging for a set of keys in her bag.

"Then who?" Steven questioned, his eyes sliding past Olivia's to land on one of the screens.

"Jesus Christ Liv. It's not…"

But the noise of the sliding door was already ringing in Steven's ears; Olivia was gone from the van, no doubt chasing after ghosts from a life that was long buried and long forgotten.

* * *

Ariadne felt her heart beat wildly in her chest. Her lungs were already beginning to burn in her chest and the sound of gunfire caused her to duck and stumble forwards. She felt Arthur's arm settle under her armpit as he pulled her upwards. His actions made it implicit that they had to keep moving; there would be no rest for her yet. Sparing a glance to her left she saw Eames keeping pace with them, the forger only occasionally glancing back as he tired to negotiate a way out of the hotel's parking complex in his head.

"We can loose them in the shopping centre, it's on the opposite side of the car park." Eames yelled over his shoulder, already he was beginning to outpace Ariadne and Arthur; it took all of his will power to fall back. At heart Eames liked to work alone, it was easier that way. Not as many variables, less ways for things to go wrong.

The sound of screeching tires and the unmistakable smell of burnt rubber soon assailed Ariadne's senses; a silver saloon car was careening around the corner, heading directly towards them. Grinding to a halt the car blocked their way ahead, Ariadne held her breathe, wondering whether she was about to be blown to hell. She felt Arthur's grip tighten around her arm as he reached for the gun holstered under his jacket. The window suddenly wound down, a mop of dark blonde hair poking out; brushing aside her errant locks the driver revealed her face.

"Get in the fucking car Christian!" the woman screamed, the sound of the engine turning over barely filled the cavernous space as the sound of pounding feet behind them grew louder, another spattering of bullets ricocheting off the concrete walls.

Almost immediately Ariadne glanced towards Arthur, but the point man was just as confused as she was, the blonde was clearly no friend of his. The architect instead looked at their forger. Eames was perfectly still; his eyes widened in confusion and for the fist time Ariadne saw something akin to vulnerability flit across his features.

"Dammit Christian," the woman spat. "Get in, unless you want those heavies to shoot you."

Suddenly Eames exploded into action, bolting forward he took care to grab Ariadne and by extension Arthur. Swinging them round they dove into the back as Eames took up a place in the passenger seat. Gunning the engine the blonde drove forwards, the sound of police sirens already filling the distant air.

"Thank you," Ariande breathed gratefully, her eyes trying to make out more of the woman in the rear view mirror. Suddenly a pair of green eyes met her brown and Ariadne shrunk back into her seat. The blonde was undoubtedly lovely, but there was a harshness to her, an unspoken anger rippled under the surface that hardened everything about her.

Ariadne fiddled with her seatbelt, her right hand reaching out for Arthur's and she was grateful when she felt his little finger entwine with her own.

"Are you going to say anything?" the woman barked, her eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead as she shot out of the parking complex. Hitting the main road she quickly took a left, flying down one of London's many side streets.

"I..." Eames stuttered and for the first time Ariadne saw the slick veneer fall away.

"Nice," the woman muttered.

"Liv!" Eames implored. "Please don't be like this…"

The woman let out a strangled laugh, devoid of any humour. "Then what do you want to me to be like Christian?"

The woman was cut short at the sound of her phone ringing through the car; quickly pressing her headset a frantic voice was heard through the car speakers.

"Liv, I saw the cameras too, but I didn't see what saw, what you think you saw… Please don't got throwing your life away for a ghost."

Liv's hands tightened around the steering wheels, her knuckles blanched white as she tried to steady her thoughts.

"Liv?" Steven's voice called out once more,

"I wont," Olivia swallowed heavily. "Thank you Steven,"

Steven audibly sighed, "Right, uniform's taken the armed assailants into custody. Are you coming back?"

Olivia grit her teeth just as she took a right, "Not today. Will you cover for me?"

"Of course I will," Steven replied.

"Thanks," Olivia whispered before she quickly ended the call.

Eames' face was contorted with frustration; gripping the sides of his seat Ariadne could see him fighting for control, attempting to put his mask back into place. But the blonde woman, Liv, was clearly throwing him off kilter, as his eyes kept glancing towards the driver. Strangely Arthur had remained quiet, his loaded die gripped tightly in his fist as he stared at the back of Eames' head. Tightening her grip on Arthur's hand Ariadne caught his attention, meeting his eyes Ariadne tried to reassure him. The effect was almost immediate; she could feel Arthur ease into his seat.

"Do you still have the flat?" Eames suddenly asked, his eyes momentarily landing on Olivia.

The woman gave a stiff nod.

"Can you take us there?" Eames questioned softly, his hand creeping out to touch Olivia's as it rested on the gear shaft.

Olivia didn't say anything; instead she pulled her hand from Eames' grip before turning the car sharply to the left, the saloon shooting down a small alleyway.

* * *

After another 10 minutes of silent driving they soon emerged in a leafy suburb of North London, Ariadne looked towards Arthur, the point man merely shrugged. He trusted Eames, he wouldn't share his headspace with someone he didn't, but the situation was becoming more and more precarious. There was no telling if the security they had run into at the hotel would be the only people sent after them.

Eames for the time being seemed to be more preoccupied with Olivia, the two of them had failed to speak to each other and the tension in the car had been excruciating. Ariadne wondered if Olivia was a scorned lover. A friend? But then Eames was hardly about to put his trust in a one-time thing, and he really didn't seem the type to have friends. Family then, Ariadne settled.

Scrabbling about in her handbag with one hand Olivia felt her fingers connect with a key fob, pointing at the garage door she waited for the black plywood to lift up and expose the barely used garage. Olivia quickly maneuvered the saloon into the garage, the door shutting behind the car, closing them off to any unwanted onlookers.

Quickly exiting the car Olivia fumbled with her keys, the lock proving to be too much of a challenge. Silently Eames padded towards her, his fingers wrapping around hers as he deftly opened the door. Snatching back her hands Olivia muffled a sob, brushing past the forger she stalked into the flat. Dumping her back on the side table Olivia rushed towards the window, her eyes fixed firmly to the floor, unwilling to look at any of the dream sharers.

Dust sheets covered most of the furniture, the air smelt stale and Ariadne wondered for how long Olivia had kept the apartment this way. Dozens of pictures covered the walls; Ariadne walking the length of one admired the varied photographs. There were several of Eames and Olivia, both looking younger – happier. But then again, what did a picture really tell you? Ariadne looked at one more closely, Eames and Olivia were standing opposite each other and Olivia's hands were carefully entwined with the forger's. Olivia was smiling in the direction of the camera, her eyes making contact with whoever was taking the picture. Eames however, was looking at Olivia; his eyes alight with genuine happiness that Ariadne rarely saw there now.

Eames shuffled towards the mantle piece, his eyes darting from Olivia to the fireplace and back again, his calloused hand reached for another one of the pictures. This time he was the only subject, he was in full military dress, the dark blue of the Royal Marine's encasing his broad shoulders. A black ribbon was fixed across the top left corner of the simple wooden frame.

Ariadne bit back a gasp as she saw what had caught the forger's attention.

"Your mother gave that to me," Olivia managed to rasp out, her voice almost swallowed whole by the torrent of tears she was just managing to keep at bay.

"Liv," Eames began, as he turned towards the blonde. Placing the picture back on the mantle he reached out to touch her arm.

"Don't touch me," Olivia hissed, her eyes suddenly burning with anger. "Don't you fucking touch me."

Eames sprang back as if he'd been stung; looking towards Arthur and Ariadne he frowned.

"There's no trail back to me from this place," Eames quickly shot at Arthur. "We'll be fine here for the time being."

Turning back towards Olivia the forger grabbed the woman by her shoulders, deaf to her protests Eames quickly bundled her towards the dining room. Shutting the wooden door behind him Eames was confronted with unwanted memories, pressing the palm of his hand against his forehead he tried to push away his errant thoughts, he couldn't be distracted.

"How?" Olivia whispered, having slumped into one of the dining room chairs. "How are you standing in front of me?"

"Liv, you work for MI5, you know what the government's capable of." Eames offered gently, crouching down in front of the blonde, his hands danced about hers, wondering if she'd let him touch her.

Olivia let out a small, hollow laugh, "Tell me all the same Christian."

"I was recruited for a military experiment, operation, whatever you want to call it. All Eyes Only stuff…"

"Did you know that being declared dead was part of the deal?" Olivia asked, her voice hard as she tried to keep herself from leaning against Eames.

Eames opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. For the first time that day he looked at Olivia, really looked. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, but she looked faintly crumpled, deflated somehow. Broken.

"Oh God, you did!" Olivia suddenly exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

Scrambling up with her Eames placed his hands either side of Olivia's face, "I thought they would tell you. Jesus Christ Liv, I didn't think…"

"They didn't," Olivia muttered meekly, suddenly lost to all the anger that had coursed through her moments before.

"I'm so sorry…" Eames muttered into Olivia's hair, she still wore the same perfume and it was all he could do not to pull her closer.

Untangling herself from Eames' grip Olivia frowned, she couldn't be this close to him – she was losing all perspective.

"And after?" the blonde asked, her eyes boring into Eames' grey. "I assume you're working for the private sector now?"

"I couldn't bring myself to find you, what I do isn't strictly legal. I didn't want to bring you into this."

"Into what?" Olivia probed.

"Dream sharing," Eames replied, his voice flat.

"Dream sharing?"

"The military developed it as a form of training, soldiers could learn to kill and maim each other in a dream," Eames sighed. "The project was shelved, there were some unforeseen psychological traumas, that and the initial deaths from the various compounds that they tried. But, the private sector picked up where the military left off. Some very clever people realised that you could steal information from peoples' dreams."

"Industrial espionage?" Olivia asked, her eyebrow quirking.

"Normally, yes." Eames bobbed his head in accord. "And it's become a fairly lucrative industry."

Olivia nodded. Pushing herself away from Eames she walked the length of the room. She was finding it hard to think, the amount of information that had been thrown at her was too much to process. A man she thought had died in the desserts of Iraq was alive, and standing in the flat that they used to share.

"Did you steal something you shouldn't have?" Olivia finally asked.

Eames laughed, his mouth forming into a crooked smile, "They figured out we were trying to steal something. And they weren't too happy about it."

"The other two in the room?" Olivia pried further, she was reeling from everything Eames had told her, but she knew there was more, and she wanted to know.

"I work with them, Ariadne and Arthur." Eames offered quietly, moving towards Olivia.

"You know that I should probably report you, right?"

Eames nodded, a small laugh escaping his throat as his eyes crinkled at the corners, "I know."

Eames' hand brushed against Olivia's and slowly their fingers knit together, the forger's thumb tracing patterns across Olivia's hand.

"Will you?"

"Would they be able to catch you if I did?" Olivia asked, looking up at Eames through her lashes, trying to keep her head and not do something stupid.

"I highly doubt it darling, I'm very good at what I do." Eames grinned once more and Olivia felt her heart swell in her chest. So many of aspects to him were familiar, yet somehow he was entirely different.

"Will I see you again?" Olivia suddenly questioned, her voice heavy.

"I don't know," Eames replied truthfully. "Do you want to?"

"I don't know," Olivia echoed. "I don't even know if I've forgiven you."

"Liv," Eames veritably groaned, his forehead pressing against hers. "I don't deserve it. I must have put you through hell, but Christ, I want to see you smile at me again."

Olivia looked up; her eyes full of tears but a genuine smile graced her features as laughter bubbled from her chest.

"That I can do for you."

* * *

**A/N:** My first time writing for the fandom! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, there will probably be one more to come. Anyway, please let me know what you think in a review - feedback is always appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

"So show me family.  
All the blood that I will bleed,  
I dont know where I belong,  
I dont know where I went wrong,"

- Ho Hey, The Lumineers

* * *

_The rumble of thunder rolled across the afternoon sky and the heavens opened, water pouring down in heavy sheets. The dark grey clouds had made good on their promise, the hot muggy weather giving way to a torrential downpour._

_Olivia laughed, her thin dress already stuck to her body as her blonde hair clung to her shoulders. Roughly pushing her wet locks from off her face she glanced towards the various pedestrians hurrying through the streets, laughter still bubbling up her throat. It was one of the rare times she was caught in the rain without an umbrella and strangely she was more than willing to let herself get drenched. _

_The interview yesterday had been a disaster, not a month out of university and Olivia was already considering giving up on actually finding a career – instead working in a dive shack on the coast of Honduras was becoming an exceptionally attractive option. And for the moment laughing like a lunatic on a relatively busy street in London in the middle of a summer downpour was the next best thing to packing it all in._

_Unbeknown to Olivia a figure darted out from under the stoop of a nearby building, a sodden newspaper held over her head was the only sign she was no longer alone, but in the presence of company. _

_"Hello?" Olivia spoke, the laughter dying on her lips as a pair of steely grey eyes met hers._

_Olivia bit back a gasp, he was handsome, she would give him that. But a complete stranger was now sharing her personal space._

_"Thought you might not want to get wet," the owner of the eyes responded. _

_"Little bit late now," Olivia laughed, her green eyes flashing with humour, despite the ridiculous situation. _

_"Looks that way," the stranger nodded. Glancing over his shoulder he looked wistfully back at the building he had been sheltering by. "Are you sure you don't want to take shelter?"_

_"Looks like you do," Olivia said, a smile curling at the corner of her mouth. _

_The stranger laughed, his hand running against his closely cropped hair. "Yeah." _

_Quickly discarding the now ruined newspaper the stranger fixed Olivia with a look, "Christian."_

_"Sorry?" Olivia replied, her eyes clouding in confusion. _

_"My name." The stranger clarified, "I don't normally make it a habit of telling total strangers my religion."_

_Looking to her side Olivia licked her lips, uncertainty coursing through her veins. "But you do your name?" _

_"Only when it comes to good looking girls," Christian offered her a crooked grin – it was strangely endearing. _

_Olivia laughed, "And that works?"_

_"Well the uniform normally helps," Christian shrugged. _

_"Oh so that explains why you wanted to help me, you're a police officer." _

_Glancing down Christian cracked a smile, "Marine, actually."_

_"It's Olivia." _

_"Pleasure to meet you." Christian held out his hand, his voice somewhat husky as he searched for eye contact.  
Unused to the formality Olivia awkwardly took his hand; it was warm, and rough to the touch. But then what did she expect from a soldier? _

_"Likewise, I'm sure." Olivia grinned. _

_Another crack of thunder was heard before a streak of lightning darted across the sky. _

_"You sure you want to stay outside?" Christian questioned, his eyebrow quirking._

"Why don't you just ask for my number and we can both go inside?" Olivia met Christian's gaze with a challenging stare of her own. 

_"I just didn't want you to get wet," Christian muttered bashfully. "I wasn't looking for…" _

_Grappling in her bag Olivia pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen, scrawling her number across it she quickly stuffed into Christian's hand. Her fingers enclosed around his. _

_In for a penny, in for a pound - Olivia leant forwards. _

_"But I was already wet," Olivia whispered before placing a chaste kiss against his cheek. _

_Her fingers released their grip on Christian's hand and she was walking away from him. Sending one last look towards the marine Olivia hurried towards Russell Square tube. _

* * *

Eames' fingers drummed against the tabletop, Olivia had rushed out the flat an hour earlier, claiming they could use if for as long as they needed. Tears streaking her face the blonde had left without some much as a backwards glance, but Eames saw the cracks. Olivia was running away from him, running away from the heart ache and misery that he would undoubtedly bring her.

"Are you ok?" Ariadne's soft voice drifted across to him, her bright eyes searching for his.

"Hm?" Eames replied, distracted.

"You don't seem entirely with it," Ariadne said quietly, her hand reaching out to stop Eames' constant drumming.

"I didn't think I'd see her again," Eames shrugged, doing his best to sound nonchalant.

"Were you married?"

Eames remained silent, his eyes fixed on one of the many pictures scattered about the room. "No, engaged."

Ariadne nodded slowly, sitting back in her chair she attempted to say something, but she was somewhat out of her depth. She could hardly claim to have ever been in love. Whatever she had with Arthur remained unvoiced, it was an undeclared affection that was reaffirmed every time they looked at each other. But that wasn't love, was it? Shifting in her seat the girl tried to find the words.

"Maybe you should go after her?"

"And what would that achieve?" Eames returned, his voice hard.

"Closure?" Ariadne offered, shrinking where she sat. She wasn't easily cowed but there was something in the way Eames' spoke, a detached coldness to him that frightened her.

"Christ, you Americans and your closure," the forger veritably spat with barely concealed contempt.

"As opposed to you and your stiff upper lip?" Ariadne shot back.

Eames laughed; it was empty and devoid of all humour. "She probably doesn't want to see me anyway Ariadne."

"For someone who takes pride in his imagination, you really can't think why she might?"

"Might what?" Eames questioned obtusely, rising from his seat and walking towards the window. Already thunderclouds were rolling across the city.

"Jesus Eames, look around you! She might not live in this apartment anymore but it's a fucking mausoleum, a monument to your relationship. She obviously hasn't let go and maybe, just maybe a bit of _closure_ might help her. So whatever you're feeling, however sorry you feel for yourself, you owe her that much Eames."

Eames chuckled, shaking his head as the first raindrops spattered against the window. "You are a fiery one Ariadne."

"I'll take that as a compliment," the architect crossed her arms over her chest and started resolutely at the back of Eames' head.

"It was intended as one," said Eames as he turned around, a genuine smile gracing his features.

"So, what are you going to do?" the American asked, her voice softer now that she had said her piece.

"I don't know where she lives anymore," Eames answered, his shoulders sagging somewhat as he leant against the cold radiator.

"Now, would that stop a man of your considerable talents?"

"Considerable talents? You do know how to break a man to build him back up again don't you? I'm surprised you haven't got Arthur eating out of your hand yet." Eames sent Ariadne a sly glance, waiting to gauge her reaction.

"Arthur is a gentleman," Ariadne replied primly. "I only need to ask for his help."

"Whereas you need to manipulate me into it?" Eames laughed good-humoredly.

Ariadne gave a sheepish shrug, "It's hard to know where you stand."

"Years of practice." Came Eames' cryptic response.

"What?"

"There's no point letting everyone know you've got an ace up your sleeve. But for future reference Ariadne, you only need ask." Eames lent down and brushed his lips across the top of the architect's head. Extending himself to his full height the forger headed towards the door.

"Tell Arthur I've nipped out for some food, he does worry so."

Ariadne smiled, "Sure."

* * *

Eames hurried down the hall before flying out of the front door; the familiar street belonging to his old life greeted him. The rain was already beginning to pour down on him and he cursed not bringing an umbrella. Thankfully the night was still warm and the forger pressed on down the street. He really didn't have a plan; he knew that a few phone calls to the right people would give him the information he needed. But his hand did not stray to his pocket, despite what Ariadne had told him he wasn't sure if he was quite ready.

He had chosen not to reconnect with Olivia for a reason, his life was hardly stable at present. Admitedlly he had raked in considerable sums of money and retirement was a viable option. But he would miss it, he would miss becoming someone else, entering a world where virtually anything was possible, the sheer creativity it provided. And then there was the niggling doubt at the back of his mind; he had spent so long being other people, spent so long away from Olivia, would she even recognize him now? Was the person she had met and loved the same person he was now?

The rain was really pounding across his shoulders, the skin across his knuckles turning red. Suddenly a hand reached out and grabbed his upper arm, spinning around Eames stared dumbfounded. A copy of the Evening Standard was held over her head in attempt to keep the rain off her but she was fighting a losing battle.

Pulling out a supplement from the already wet newspaper Olivia held it out to Eames.

"I thought you might not want to get to wet," Olivia whispered, her green eyes shedding tears that were lost to the rain.

"I'm already wet," Eames answered, a ghost of a smile flitting across his features.

Olivia reached up with her hand, placing it against Eames' cheek. Blinking the water from out of her eyes the woman attempted to keep her breathing steady. Heat was radiating off his body and for a moment she was lost to everything around her. All she could feel was Eames' cheek pressed against her hand, all she could hear was his steady breathing.

"Liv…" Eames mumbled, his voice hoarse. "You came back."

"Christian," shaking her head Olivia frowned. "Eames?"

"No," the forger shook his head. "Christian to you, always Christian."

"I don't think I can let you go again," Liv's brow creased as she leaned into Eames.

"I'm not the same Liv," Eames whispered. "I've seen and done things I'm not sure I could admit to. I've lived whole other lives. Become different people. You might not like me anymore."

Olivia shook her head, dropping the now useless newspaper she cupped Eames' face with both of her hands, "Behind the layers you're still the same, strip away everything and at the heart of you there'll be things that never change. Little things even." Olivia shrugged. "Do you still take your coffee black with one sugar?"

Eames laughed, "Yes, but that's hardly a basis for a relationship."

"No," Olivia agreed before muttering pensively, "Can you even have a relationship with a ghost?"

Eames shut his eyes, a pained expression darting across his face before he gripped Olivia's hands in his own. Pulling them down from their resting place across his face Eames held them out in front of him.

"I never meant to hurt you Liv," Eames shuddered, his warm breath hitting her skin as he pulled her towards him.

"I know, but it doesn't change the fact that you did," Liv gave a wan smile.

"You were coming back," Eames pointed out, itching to pull the woman into an embrace, to feel her heart against his chest, the scent of her skin in the damp air.

"Against better judgment some might say," Olivia breathed. Her head swaying dangerously close to Eames' chest.

"Why?"

"Because you were gone and now you're not. Because I have a cruel fascination to see how much pain I can put my heart through before I finally forget you. Or maybe it's just because I'm too selfish, because I'm afraid if I let you go I'll lose you all over again and _that _would be too cruel."

"Liv, I'm no good for you now, I wish to heaven that I were, but I can't be selfish with you. It wouldn't be fair."

Olivia shook her head, standing on her tip toes her lips were not millimeters apart from Eames' "Be selfish, just be selfish and let me have you."

Liv's warm breath skimmed across his lips and Eames stopped thinking. Consequences were for later. Grabbing Olivia he pulled her flush against him. Their mouths met and it was if he had been hit by a freight train. The weight of her body against his was comforting, the need for her rising up in his belly all-consuming. He could feel the goose bumps across her skin as his hands grappled for purchase of her body. His hands snaked their way into her hair, their kisses growing deeper. They were laying it all on the line, and for now that was all they could ask for. Maneuvering Olivia towards a large plane tree Eames pressed her against the rough bark. He was lost in her and she in him. His lips grazed across her hot skin, her back arching as a small gasp was stolen from open lips.

"I…" Eames mumbled against Olivia's neck.

"Don't say it," Olivia whispered. "Don't say it yet. Just give me this moment."

* * *

**A/N: **Another chapter! Hope you guys enjoyed it and please drop me a review with any feedback - as it's always appreciated!


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